


It's Been a While

by SoulSurvivor_36



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, motel sex, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:22:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulSurvivor_36/pseuds/SoulSurvivor_36
Summary: When Delilah first started hunting with Dean, they did more than just kill monsters, sometimes they had to blow off some steam.





	It's Been a While

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic first started out as a memory within my current larger story for my "The Lives We Make for Ourselves" series but it quickly became too long and intricate for a simple memory, so I decided to just go with it and post it seperately.  
> Enjoy!  
> ;-)  
> Title and lyrics from Staind

_It’s been a while,_  
_Since I’ve seen the way,_  
_Candles light your face._  
_And it’s been a while,_  
_But I can still remember,_  
_Just the way you taste._

“Lemme take a look at that.”

“It’s fine, Dean. Just a scratch. Fucker caught me off guard,” Delilah said, angry about her near miss in the fight.

She was pacing the room: going from the bed to her bag and pulling out clothing and then stuffing it back in and dropping the bag again, returning to the other side of the motel room where Dean had left the weapons’ duffel. She started pulling out some of the contents, taking inventory. Then, she walked over to the kitchenette sink and washed her hands because she had noticed they were filthy.

“Just let me check. It’ll take half a second.”

“I’m telling you, it’s just a goddamned scratch!” Delilah answered brusquely, her anger at herself lashing out at him.

He was sitting on the end of his bed and pulling off his boots. She spared him a glance, catching his disapproving frown and pursed lips, before turning back to the weapons. There was blood on one of the knives and she did an about turn, heading for the bathroom to get a towel to clean it up.

“Lilah,” Dean said again, but she walked right past him without stopping. He followed her into the small, cramped bathroom. “Would you stop for a sec?”

“It’s fine, Dean. Stop making such a fuss about it,” Delilah muttered as she grabbed a towel from the small rack and ran the water to dampen it.

Dean reached around her and pulled the towel out of her hands. “Fuck, Dean! Enough already.” She turned to face him and reached towards his hand to get the towel back but he lunged forward, grabbing her under the arms like a child, and lifted her off the ground. Before she even knew what he was doing, she found herself sitting on the small counter, her ass half hanging in the sink and Dean was leaning his leg between hers to block her from getting up again.

“Now, shut up,” he growled, his jaw tight.

Butterflies flip flopped in her stomach and her breath hitched at his forcefulness. She sat completely still as he leaned forward, lifting her hair out of the way gently, inspecting where she had hit her head when the ghost had flung her across the room. His fingers were so nimble and gentle, picking stray strands out of the tacky dried blood, barely pulling at the sensitive spot. Delilah found herself nearly hypnotized by the reflected spots of light dancing in his green irises, his fine eyebrows drawn together in a concentrated frown. She could feel her heart accelerating as she caught the spicy smell of him, like warm sunshine on leather. Her eyes strayed down to his mouth just as his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and suddenly she went from stomach flipping giddiness to full on sinful, lust, complete with images and sensations of him coursing through her in anticipation.

“Fuck, Dean. Do you have any idea the thoughts that run through a girl’s head when you do that?”

“What?” he answered, his eyes focusing confusedly on hers a bare second before she crashed her mouth against his, grabbing a fistful of his open shirt and running her hand up into his short hair, to keep him close.

His hands dropped from her hair to her shoulders and he squeezed her as he kissed her back, his lips working in time with hers. He pushed her back a little, pulling away from her hungry lips, keeping his hands on her shoulders, his chest rising and falling noticeably faster than before, and Delilah regaled in knowing she had the same effect on him as he did on her.

“I think, you’re just trying to distract me,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.

Delilah crashed her mouth against his again. “The things I want to do to you Dean…” she confessed against his lips and his arms wrapped around her waist tightly, holding her against him. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and he shook his arms out of the sleeves as quickly as he could, his large hands returning to either side of her face a few moments, before he had to pull away again as she pulled his t-shirt up and over his head. Dean started removing her own clothes too, her jeans landing in a heap on the tiles followed by her shirt, socks and bra while he stood there, barefoot on the cold floor and yanked her against his jean clad hips roughly. His lips closed on her straining nipple and she arched against him, her hands clinging to his shoulders while he teased her with his tongue.

She ran her hand down his front, feeling his fit body before slipping it in his pants and under the waistband of his boxer briefs. She found his already hard cock just waiting for her touch as she wrapped her hand around his thick shaft and his breath caught. She tugged on him, rubbing her hand along his length, the movement impeded by his jeans. He groaned and he thrust his own hand roughly in her underwear, his fingers meeting her already soaking pussy.

“Fuck, Lilah,” he exhaled as his head dropped to her shoulder. His fingers pushed inside her and he sucked at the skin of her neck. She stroked him faster, matching her movements with the rising ache in her, her desire turning to desperate need the more he worked his fingers in her. He started rubbing quick little circles around her swollen clit and the build up was so fast she saw stars as she came hard, calling out his name and clinging to him.

He had a smug look on his face as she opened her eyes again. “Feeling proud of yourself, Winchester?”

“Damn right. I love it when women scream my name.”

Delilah sat up and grabbed his ass, pulling herself to him, his jeans the only thing stopping him from pushing straight into her. “You’re not off the clock yet, buddy.”

He groaned, leaning his forehead against hers then tilting his head to capture her lips again for a searing kiss, his hands slipping under her ass and lifting her up off the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders as she looked down into his handsome face. She ran one hand down the side of his jaw and on down his neck, resting it against his collar bone, her palm covering his anti-possession tattoo. She returned her gaze to his face; a small tremor going through her as she realized his piercing green eyes were looking right at her with a wild hunger. Their lips crashed together again and he tightened his hold on her.

She was throbbing for him, her previous orgasm only making her more desperate to have him thrusting inside her, and she let herself slip down so she was wrapped around his hips. She writhed against him, feeling the friction of his jeans and his rock hard cock straining to break free of them and it was almost too much for her. She wanted him so badly.

She unwound her legs from around his hips, her feet connecting to the cold bathroom tiles again and she grabbed at his belt buckle, pulling it open then yanking on his jeans button. His mouth found hers again just as she pulled open the zipper and laid her palm against him through his boxer briefs. With a shake of his hips, the jeans fell down his legs, the buckle clattering against the tile and he moved forward, stepping out of the cumbersome clothing and pressing her against the counter. Their hands were all over each other, groping and clutching at skin and hair, wet lips trailing kisses wherever they could reach and a realization suddenly dawned on Delilah: she didn’t have her usual bag with her, and so she had no supplies.

Dean ground his hips against hers, his erection digging into her driving the point home and she pushed against his shoulders as he kneaded her ass and closed his mouth on her breast again.

“Dean,” she said, trying to get his attention.

“Mmmmm,” he answered, his mouth full, his tongue flicking at her nipple sending a shiver through her.

“Dean. D’you have condoms?”

The effect was instant, he straightened up and looked down at her, his hair sticking up in all direction from her hands pulling on it. His eyes said it all: they were shit out of luck. Delilah silently sighed in disappointment, but was determined to give him a happy ending too.

She took advantage of his continued distraction to switch their positions, making him lean back against the counter. She kissed him slowly, slipping her tongue past his lips to flick at his open mouth. Her hands trailed down his torso slowly and she kissed a line down his neck and chest, pausing to suck on his collar bone.

“Lilah…” he started but she interrupted him.

“S’ok, I’ll take good care of you.”

She slipped her hands lower, hooking her fingers in his underwear and dragging them down over his ass and down his legs, his cock springing free. She wrapped her hand around him, massaging him slowly, pulling him along his whole length and then again. Dean groaned and his hand cupped her jaw and he leaned down to kiss her. She pulled her lips away from his with a coy smile and she kissed a line back down his chest, her hands continuing to work him. As she reached his navel, she kneeled down in front of him on the cold hard tiles and his breath hitched, his stomach sucking in like he had just then realized what she was planning.

She looked up at him from her position facing his cock and with a coquettish smirk she leaned forward and licked him, catching a drop of precome on her tongue.

“Mmmm. You taste so good, baby.”

He didn’t answer, but she felt him shift as he leaned back against the counter. She was enjoying teasing him, maybe a bit more than she thought she would, and she wrapped her lips around his tip, giving him a quick suck before licking him again in quick circles. His breath hitched again and one hand left the counter to rest on her head. By the time she took him in her mouth he was clutching at her hair.

Her mouth was full of him as she sucked and swirled at him and he groaned. Delilah found herself thinking about the feel of him thrusting inside her and she moaned around him from the wave of arousal rushing through her. She picked up her pace, fucking him with her mouth, lost in her own pleasure.

Quite suddenly, she found herself on her feet again, pressed between his body and the small section of wall between the towel rack and the door. He was breathing as heavily as her and he leaned into her, grinding his hips against her slowly.

“Goddamnit, Lilah,” he growled in his throat, “Do you have any idea, how bad I want you, right now?”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him passionately, all cool calculations gone as she licked at his lips and met his tongue as he ground into her again.

“Oh God,” he groaned, “Do you trust me?” he asked, breathlessly as he pulled his mouth away from hers.

Delilah ran cold for a second; what was he suggesting? They go without protection? She looked at him, trying to decide what to do, her mind and body pulling her in two very different directions. She swallowed hard, weighed down by the potential consequences. But, fuck, did she want to.

“ _Can_ I trust you, Dean?”

“Yes,” he barely got out before crashing his lips against hers again.

They made out, pressed against the wall, his hands clutching at her, her arms wrapped around him tightly. Slowly, the mad desperation seemed to calm and he pulled away from her, giving her a smile before turning towards the shower and starting the water. Delilah drank him in, staring at his naked form as he adjusted the temperature. She realized she still had her panties on and quickly removed them before walking up behind him and running her hands up along his hips and sides slowly.

He took one of her hands in his, turning towards her slightly, then stepped over the tub lip, guiding her in after him. Her stomach knotted slightly, the pace much slower than she was accustomed to, but the hot water pouring from the spout and down her body helped to soothe some of the worry away. Dean took care of the rest.

He pressed her back against the shower wall, the cheap plastic of the shower cold against her back, making her gasp from the contrast with the hot water. Dean ran his hands up and down her now wet body, squeezing a breast along the way and kissing her neck, nibbling her earlobe. She held on to his broad shoulders, smoothing her hands along the top of his back, then up his nape and into his hair. She kissed whatever skin came within reach of her lips, trying to forget the worry gnawing away at her.

His hand slipped down to cover her pussy, and she felt the throbbing start up again, stronger even than before almost. He parted her lips with his nimble fingers and dipped into her quickly, then out again to rub her clit in slow circles. Delilah moaned, feeling the arousal take her over, and she lost herself in the feeling as he plunged two fingers into her deeply. It was like she was smothered in him as she gasped, pleasure skittering through her like slow electricity, his body pressing her against the shower, her face buried in his shoulder, his hand covering her, pushing in and out of her; even the water from the shower head was like it was a part of him, running down her body, wrapping her in warmth. And still she wanted more. She wanted him driving into her, filling her up in a way his fingers would not do, no matter how nimble.

“Please, Dean,” she gasped into his neck as she reached her hand for his cock, the member still rock hard, his stamina impressive.

“Do you want me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Dean. I want you so badly it hurts.”

His fingers pulled out and he focused his attention on her clit again, his circles rough and irregular but stroking the fire inside of her.

“Oh God, Dean! Fuck!” she muttered against his shoulder as the build up drove her wild and she clung to him.

“Come for me, baby,” he said, his voice rough and low and breathy and she felt the building explosion inside her release and she was taken over by a second orgasm that was as intense as the first, hitting her in waves and tremors as he slowed his motions.

He didn’t give her a chance to come down from her high, he pulled his hand away and grabbed her leg, his fingers digging into her thigh, and he lined himself up with his hand and thrust into her making her cry out in ecstasy again. He felt so damn good buried inside, she could feel the next orgasm building almost immediately on the heels of the last, blending together and keeping her in a state of near euphoria.

She raised herself to her toes, her other leg resting against the lip of the tub as he pumped into her over and over steadily. “Fuck,” he groaned into her ear, “You feel so good, Lilah.”

He seized her lips with his again as he kept up his rhythm. She felt so full with him pushing against her walls, and she squeezed every inch of him tightly as she clung to his shoulders, the slick tub making her feel like she was slipping with every move. And yet she wanted more. She wanted him pushing into her faster, harder and she was going to go insane if he didn’t do it soon.

She let go of his shoulders and ran her hands down his wet back to his ass. She grabbed him and pulled him against her roughly. “Harder, Dean,” she whispered into his ear and he turned his head to kiss her. Delilah almost thought he hadn’t understood her, but barely a breath later she felt him pull her against him roughly and then turn her to face the wall.

Her face pressed into the plastic as Dean pushed her legs apart and pulled her ass towards him roughly, his fingers hooked around her hip bones. She drew one of her legs up on the tub lip again, spreading herself a little wider and he thrust into her hard. Delilah cried out, his cock filling her up tighter at the new angle, and this time Dean didn’t hold back. He plowed into her, fast, hard and rough, his throaty grunts filling her ears as her cries of ecstasy bounced around the cramped space and she lost track of everything except how good he felt.

His hands on her hips held her steady as her legs started to shake and just when she thought she couldn’t possibly take any more, he suddenly pulled out of her, one hand letting go of her hip. Delilah felt off kilter for half a second before regaining her balance and she suddenly remembered that they weren’t using any protection. He let go of her altogether and she turned to watch him as he pulled and tugged at himself quickly, his hand against the wall beside him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth open, the water plastering his hair to his head. Then he groaned, his body tensed and she looked down to see the white cum spurt from his cock and mix itself to the water pooling in the tub bottom, then slowly draining.

Dean’s hand slowed to a stop, and he let go of himself, his breathing heavy. Delilah watched him, intrigued. She had never had a partner who was so much in control. She moved towards him and took his face in her hands, his stubble rough against her palms, and she pressed her lips against his slowly. He kissed her back just as slowly, opening his mouth and pressing it against hers, his eyes closed as he reached around behind her and pulled her close to him. Delilah was met by a jet of cool water and she startled. “Fuck!” she cried out, before reaching around him and turning off the water.

Dean chuckled and stepped out of the shower, tossing a dry towel towards her and grabbing one for himself. He had dried himself off much more quickly than she had herself, and he wrapped the damp towel around his hips, bending down to pick up his clothes and then walked out of the bathroom leaving her to dream and reminisce about the amazing sex, laughing at her still shaking legs.

By the time she had walked back out of the bathroom and into the motel room proper, Dean was stretched out on his bed, a fresh pair of black boxer briefs covering him and he was snoring lightly into his pillow, his mouth slightly open. She caught herself watching him tenderly for a few seconds before she could shake herself. There would be none of that! She chastised herself. Dean was not the kind of man to build attachments, and she was not the kind of girl who even thought about settling down with anybody.

She quickly put on her cotton shorts and a tank top and crawled into her own bed, pulling the sheets up to her waist and she turned the lamp off between the two beds. She turned onto her side, away from Dean’s sleeping form, and the last thought she was aware of before succumbing to her exhaustion, was how nice it would be to be leaning against his body, his arm draped over her hips and holding her against him.  
Delilah smiled in the dark room, and fell asleep.

 _And everything I can’t remember,_  
_As fucked up as it all may seem,_  
 _The consequences that I’ve rendered,_  
 _I’ve gone and fucked things up again._

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to check out my "The Lives We Make for Ourselves" series for more Dean and Delilah drama.


End file.
